


At the Moment

by thesilverarrow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, MWPP Era, Semi-Public Sex, Sneaking Around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-23 23:57:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1584137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesilverarrow/pseuds/thesilverarrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because, really, it has nothing to do with some secret obsession with the dark side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the Moment

**Author's Note:**

> Both characters are past the age of consent in the U.K.
> 
> Story obviously diverges somewhat from what we know of canon -- let's assume Snape isn't being fairly tortured by the Marauders on a regular basis.

He swears it's mostly about the sneaking around.

Because, really, it has nothing to do with some secret obsession with the dark side. He got enough of that at home. Besides, Severus Snape is not that dark. He's not that dangerous, either, once you get to know him. At least, no more dangerous than Sirius on a bad day.

Sirius has no illusions. He'd love to think Snape has some kind of uncontrollable desire for charismatic, rebellious types, but of all the people walking around Hogwarts every day, Severus Snape is the one perhaps the least charmed by Sirius's long hair, tight jeans, and swaggering hips.

(Come to think about it, maybe it's not just about the sneaking around. Maybe it's also about being fantastically stubborn.)

He ducks into one of the disused herbology sheds and finds Snape there ahead of him, sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest, black robes almost swallowing him whole, reading a book. He doesn't look up at Sirius, but his attention is firmly fixed on him from the moment he steps through and closes the door.

"Black," he says with a quick glance, then he gestures with a nod of his head to the ground beside him.

Sirius shrugs off his book bag and plops down, finding his head and shoulders in the shade but his legs in the sun, and he's instantly warm. He can see why Snape has come here, and even more, he can easily imagine this is a regular retreat of the boy's, especially on cool, damp spring days like this one.

"Did you have to get help?" Snape asks him, a hint of amusement in his voice. He's very intentionally not looking at him.

Sirius frowns. "You know, you're not half as clever as you think you are."

Turning a page, Snape replies, "More clever than attempting to confound me into forgetting I heard your common room password."

"Would've been clever if I'd actually managed it."

"Would've been even more clever if you found a way to sneak me in without me knowing the Fat Lady is partial to _dulcinea_ _pulchritudina_ on Wednesdays."

"Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it."

"What? Having a go at someone in Gryffindor tower? Risking the entire universe walking in to find us abusing several pieces of antique furniture?"

"You charmed the door."

"No, I put some basic wards on it to alert us to anyone's coming. _You_ charmed the door. I'm fairly sure that portrait is half in love with you."

"Only half? I must not being doing something right."

"Do you ever get tired of being this smug?"

"Yep. Exhausting." He leans his head on Snape's shoulder, just long enough to feel him tense up a bit. "Although not as exhausting as a fucking locator spell. What the hell, Severus?"

In reality, he'd had to resort to the bloody magic map, but that was beside the point. A locator spell. Really.

"Couldn't have been too difficult. I wasn't far from you."

"How do you know?"

"Perhaps because I can actually do a locator spell." He glances up at him. "Also, because I know your schedule."

"Oh?"

"And I happen to know you've been in this shed before."

Sirius raises an eyebrow, which Snape sees out of the corner of his eye.

So he adds, "Sylvania Scutter."

Oh, yes. But, seriously, fourth year.

"Jealous?" Sirius says.

Snape grimaces. "Of that miserable tart? Hardly."

"Of me, then?"

" _With_ that miserable tart? Hardly."

"You really don't like girls, do you?"

"What makes you say that?"

"I don't know. Maybe the way you moan my name."

Snape sighs, stretching his legs out in the process. He's apparently taking a moment to consider his retort. Or lack of one, apparently.

"You're really not going to let me finish this chapter, are you?"

"No."

Of course, he attempts to do so anyway. It's like a dare. So Sirius climbs into his lap, thighs open over Snape's bony hips, hands around his neck.

He can feel Snape's face heat the way it always does when they come together, as he tries to transition from cool, aloof rival to volatile sort-of friend. The transformation doesn't take long, though. Snape ducks his head and bites Sirius's neck, precariously close to his throat. Sirius shivers, in part because of the triumphant gleam that comes into his eyes.

"By the way," Snape says, finally letting his hands come up to clutch Sirius's hips, "your logic is poor. You moan my name sometimes, but I'm quite sure you'd still be willing to stick your knob into almost anything that smiles at you, male or female."

"I'm hurt."

"I'm sure."

"Hey, you don't smile at me."

"I make a point of it."

"And I've stuck my nob into you."

"In a manner of speaking. Have I ever told you how charming you are?"

"No."

He murmured, "There's a reason for that."

"Oh, fuck off, Severus," he says into the boy's neck, nuzzling, but only a little, taking in his scent. "You have to know that I really am plenty picky."

"If you say so."

"You have a sexy brain," he says into his ear.

Snape gives a shiver, but his reply is sardonic: "Lovely."

"It is. And talented hands."

"I'll accept that."

Sirius pulls back enough that he can give him a sly smile.

"I like tall and skinny and morose, I really do."

"Apparently."

"You are impossible to compliment."

"And you're easy. Predictable, even."

"Okay, then – tell me something I haven't heard before."

Snape actually seems to contemplate that. He stares into Sirius's eyes for a moment, narrowing his own. It's unnerving, but in a mostly good way, having all of Snape's focus.

Finally, Snape speaks into his ear: "Okay. For a haphazard flirt and a self-centered git, you can be weirdly single-minded. I'd almost say patient."

"Pays off, I've found."

Snape makes a humming sound to himself, and he pauses before he speaks again.

"Is that the draw?" he says, with a casual tone that would fool no one.

"Of what?"

"Whatever you call this, with us."

"I won't say it's not part of it, but I'm pretty sure I'd have a go at you anyway."

"Why is that?"

"I don't know. Does there have to be a reason?"

"Yes. It doesn't have to be a good one, though."

"Okay," Sirius says. "Let me think."

Then he promptly mimics Snape's moment of staring contemplation.

There are plenty of reasons he's doing this, but most of them aren't that easy to explain. Some, he can't even explain to himself. He just feels this draw, this quiet, aching desperation when he's near the boy. Makes him a bit nervous really, but less so since he sometimes thinks he feels it in return, too.

After a moment, Snape murmurs, "Any time today," and he turns away from his gaze.

"Okay," Sirius says. "It's that, well, I can't make heads or tails of you most of the time. Maybe I like that?"

"Maybe?"

"And I seem to always want to get naked when I'm around you."

In response, Snape grins, sly and playful, and Sirius can't help but kiss him.

Snape's head falls back against the cabinet behind them, but he doesn't break the kiss, just holds Sirius tighter, pulls him down against him, enough that Sirius can feel how hard he already is.

Just when he's gotten comfortable rocking against Snape's hips, clutching the boy's greasy head to keep him close enough to kiss deeply, obscenely, he feels himself being pushed back.

"Floor," Snape says. "On your back."

Sirius is protesting even as he gets in position, there in the sunny patch of the room, the light from the high window slanting right down into his eyes. But he quickly acquiesces when he feels Snape's hands working at his flies, making him raise up so he can slide his trousers and pants down. Sirius pulls at a nearby sack of something to rest his head on. It's lumpy, but it's better than hard stone.

Snape sits back again. He never touches him until he's good and ready. It's a little maddening. Sirius is so fucking hard already, so he tries to focus on everything else for a minute. The stone underneath him is sun warm, and the cool April air feels good on his exposed skin. And most importantly, Snape's eyes burn him up—even now, while there's a curious smile on the boy's face.

"What?" Sirius asks.

"I was just thinking that you're not that hard to figure out."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"For me? No. I frequently don't understand people. But you, I understand."

"What is it you understand?"

At that, Snape finally leans forward again and puts his hands on him, first on his cloth-covered knees. Quickly, though, they begin to walk their way up his naked thighs.

"That you're stupidly reckless but not actually stupid," Snape says, fingers inching closer and closer to his bollocks, "and that you're beastly curious about everybody and everything."

"Especially you."

"And you're probably the sexiest person I've ever met."

And that, not the hands on his naked skin, is what finally makes him blush.

"Yeah?" he says.

Snape nods, a mostly unguarded sincerity in his eyes for a moment. Then he rolls them and says:

"Despite your refusal to wear trousers that fit."

"I think they fit just fine."

Another eyeroll. "I think they allow the entire universe to see your apparently famous knob."

And that's when, finally, Snape reaches for his neglected prick, and he immediately thumbs over the head, which is already wet.

Somehow, Sirius manages to choke down a gasp and say, "Jealous?"

"Maybe."

"Don't be. You're the only one getting up close and personal with it at the moment."

Snape gives him a couple of long strokes before he murmurs, "When you say _at the moment_ …?"

Then the bastard twists his fist up over the head, making Sirius gasp in a sharp breath.

When he's got himself under control again, Sirius mumbles, "Since midterm."

"Honestly?"

"Yes," Sirius says with a frustrated growl as he throws his head back. "Dose me with _veritaserum_ if you don't believe me."

"I do."

"And, _honestly_ , I also meant _at this moment_."

Snape's lips curve back into a smug smile.

"Desperate, are we?" he says.

As a matter of fact, yes.

All of a sudden, Sirius sits up and springs forward, knocking Snape back into the shadow and back onto his bony arse. His head smacks the cabinet a bit harder than Sirius thought it would, but Snape's not protesting. As Sirius straddles his lap again, his bare cock rasps against Snape's rough robe, and it's glorious. Also glorious: Snape going tense all over, just before he molds to Sirius's body, clutching and making a sort of keening sound in the back of his throat.

"Now who's desperate?" Sirius murmurs against Snape's collarbone. His hands are already pushing up under his robes, but Snape is gasping and pushing him back.

"Let me—  Chrissakes, Black, let me just…"

Snape manages to lever himself up off the cabinet long enough to pull the robe over his head.

Better, Sirius thinks. So much better. Snape isn't wearing much of his uniform, just the white button-down shirt, which Sirius quickly unbuttons and pushes back off his shoulders, and the standard black trousers. No belt, as usual, so it's all too easy for Sirius to pop the button and unzip them and pull him out of his…

Fuck.

For a moment, he feels like he's spiked a fever: Snape isn't wearing any pants.

"Since when?" Sirius squeaks.

Snape manages to look both triumphant and embarrassed.

"Since today."

"Goddamn."

He reaches out for Snape's prick, and as soon as he gets his hand around it, he feels him shudder and thrust up into his hand. He can't help himself now. Doing his best to ignore the cool, hard floor already fairly torturing his knees, he drops onto all fours and bends his head to take Snape's prick into his mouth.

Snape's whole body goes rigid, and he lets out a pained cry. Immediately, Sirius pulls off, afraid he's spooked him or somehow hurt him. They've never actually done this before. Snape has sucked him a couple of times, although never until he came, but Sirius has never put his mouth on him like this.

But Snape is shaking his head. "No, 's good," he murmurs.

Sirius makes a move to begin again, but now Snape actually pushes at his shoulder.

 "Wait, Black. Fuck. Wait."

He's got his head resting on Snape's thigh now, so he doesn't see what he's doing with his hands, but he soon hears an unfamiliar incantation: _muffliato_. Then he hears what must be Snape's wand clattering to the floor.

He raises his head. "What the hell?"

"Muffles the sounds we're making." He rolls his eyes at himself. "Well, most of the sounds."

Sirius isn't sure if that's a warning or a dare. Maybe it's both.

Whatever the case, Sirius quickly wraps one hand around his cock and takes the rest into his mouth again. Sirius likes being between his legs like this. He's never minded the strong musk of his body. Snape smells more male than anybody he's ever been close to like this, and it has nothing to do with whether he washes often enough (which he generally does, despite the rumors). And he tastes good, or at least as good as it's possible for come to taste. It also helps that Sirius sort of loves giving head.

Sirius licks up and down his shaft, then tongues the head before closing his mouth over him and taking him down, and Snape doesn't make much noise. Not at first, anyway. For a long time, he just pants and gasps, but eventually he groans from deep in his chest:

"Oh god, Sirius."

It washes over him in a wave of longing that ends with a lick of flame in his belly.

Sirius pulls off and pants against his hip: "Do that again."

"What?"

"My name," Sirius says, finally looking up at him again. He gives Snape's cock a rough stroke. "Say my name."

He figures he must sound half crazed, because Snape doesn't mock him or ask why. Possibly he knows why: Snape has never, ever called him by his first name before, always his vaunted family name, and it must be because he's chosen not to. Until now.

When he closes his mouth around the head of his prick again, Snape doesn't just say his name – he moans it. That instantly makes Sirius even harder, which he didn't think was even possible.

"Sirius," Snape groans, "oh, oh God, Sirius, Sirius, fuck, I'm—"

With that, Sirius takes him all the way down and swallows at the velvety head of his cock, listening with satisfaction to Snape's strangled cry and soon feeling warmth hit the back of his throat. He almost chokes, but by the time he can swallow enough to pull off, thankfully Snape is already pushing at his shoulders, squirming with overstimulation.

Once Sirius pushes himself up off the ground and onto his knees again, he can't help but take himself in hand.

"Severus," he says, gasping as he strips his cock. "Merlin, that was hot."

It's even hotter doing this to himself, with Snape watching him through hooded eyes. Literally, too, as the sun is now on his back. The wet slide of his fist over his prick sounds obscene, and it seems even dirtier when he reaches down to roll his bollocks against his palm.

When he knows he's close, he brings his free hand up in front of his prick, so that he doesn’t shoot his load all over him.

"Black," Snape says, suddenly clutching Sirius's thigh. "Sirius. You can…" Then Snape's hand finally catches his free hand, pulling it down.

When Sirius's eyes meet Snape's, he realizes what he's trying to get him to do, and it's only a couple more strokes before he's coming in long streams, most of them hitting Snape's chest and stomach, but one splattering his throat and chin.

As he wanks himself through it, he watches Snape swipe a finger through the mess on his chin and then suck it into his mouth.

"Bloody hell," Sirius murmurs, finally sitting back.

They're a mess. Literally. They're both half in and half out of their trousers. Sirius has taken the brunt of the dirt, but Snape is covered in spunk. Even if he weren't, the state of their hair and their red, swollen lips would make what they'd been doing quite obvious. It's a ridiculously attractive look on Snape, actually. The debauched nerd.

Except, in a weird way, Sirius feels like he's the one that's been corrupted here. He can't help but grin to himself.

"Who knew you were so kinky," he murmurs.

"Now _you_ do. Although I don't think I'm _that_ kinky."

"No. But surprising."

"And itchy, to be honest. The lack of pants, I mean."

"And it sort of makes the whole horniness thing worse, doesn't it?"

"Worth it, though." Snape's expression warms into a genuine smile, especially in his eyes. "Should've seen your face."

"Should see yours now."

Snape just gives him a sheepish shrug, his fingers coming up and finding a stray drop of come just under his chin, which he quickly sucks away.

Sirius sucks in a breath. Then he frowns to himself.

Raising his eyebrows, he says, "You honestly don't mind?"

"If it was just that I didn't mind," Snape replies, "I wouldn't have made you do it."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh."

"Just your…?" He gestures to his chest, his neck, and stops there.

Snape shakes his head. "Any of it. I mean, all of it."

"That's it, then," Sirius says, struggling to his feet as he pulls his pants and trousers back up. "Tomorrow, we've got to do this in a lavatory."

"Which?"

He smirks at Snape. "For that, I think you'll be needing a good locator spell."

And that's when Snape finally sits up.

"Or," he says, "I could right now spell you into looking like you haven't been rolling around naked in a gardening shed."

"As long as you don't make me too presentable."

Snape snorts, "I'm not that good a wizard."

"Yet," Sirius adds.

Snape nods. "Yet."


End file.
